Readers familiar with Lia Purpura's highly praised essay
collections--Increase, On Looking, and Rough Likeness--will know she's a
master of observation, a writer obsessed with the interplay between
humans and the things they see. The subject matter of All the Fierce
Tethers is wonderfully varied, both low (muskrats, slugs, a stained
quilt in a motel room) and lofty (shadows, prayer, the idea of beauty).
In "Treatise Against Irony," she counters this all-too modern affliction
with ferocious optimism and intelligence: "The opposite of irony is
nakedness." In "My Eagles," our nation's symbol is viewed from all
angles--nesting, flying, politicized, preserved. The essay in itself
could be a small anthology. And, in a fresh move, Purpura turns to her
own, racially divided Baltimore neighborhood, where a blood stain
appears on a street separating East (with its Value Village) and West
(with its community garden). Finalist for the National Book Critics
Award, winner of the Pushcart Prize, Lia Purpura returns with a
collection both sustaining and challenging.